Saturday, January 7, 2012

Fedris Hler greeted them with
the same curiously unsettling grin when they delivered the news of the goblin
army.

“How wonderful,” he said,
looking slowly from Fen to Julan. Fen felt an unpleasant squirm in her stomach.
“I have no doubt that Our Lady will be most appreciative.” He gave Fen an
expectant look.

“Um…I’m very glad,” she said
awkwardly, and Hler looked satisfied.

“As am I.
Now, Pilgrim, I should like you to speak with Gavas Drin. He is the Lord
Archcanon of Mournhold and was in consultation with Lady Almalexia this very
morning. Perhaps he has a task for you. His office is just down that hall,
there.” Hler stood watching them with the same odd smile as they followed the
finely tiled hall he indicated down a curving corridor to an arched doorway.
High Ordinators flanked the doorway, and they let Fen and Julan pass with
nothing more than identical cruel glares.

The office was large and
spacious, and a long wooden desk laden with papers and books stood in its
centre. The man seated there was dressed in a simple robe of moss-green, his
graying hair slicked back from his face and oiled so it shone in the sunlight
leaking in through the rosy windows. He set down his quill when they entered,
studying them with somber eyes.

“You are the ones that Hler
mentioned,” he said at once, surveying them both without smiling. “Interesting.
You are to be of service to Our Lady, and all would be displeased should you
fail.” His eyes narrowed. “Most especially me.” Fen stared back at him,
refusing to break eye contact. Drin was very clearly trying to intimidate her,
and she had a sneaking suspicion that he realized who she was. Her family had
never been close with the Temple, but she could vaguely recall seeing the grim
Lord Archcanon during their visits to the Temple to worship, during which she
had always been disguised as a distant and less important visiting relative.
Still, he stared at her with a strange sort of knowing that made Fen uncomfortable.

“Beneath this Temple, there is
a large sewer system, built around the ruins of Old Mournhold,” he went on, lacing
his fingers together and resting his pointed chin on their tips. “You smell
like you may have spent some time there,” he added quietly with a sneer. Fen
crossed her arms and did not reply. “Regardless, in these ruins, there lies a
shrine. This shrine has been corrupted.”

“Oh?”

“The Shrine of the Dead was
once a place of great power,” Drin went on.
“It served as a channel to the ancestors, allowing the faithful to learn from
them...to harness their power. Over the years, it has been forgotten, and it
has grown sour.”

“Maybe that’s because you
fetchers have started worshipping –” Julan started fiercely, and Fen stamped,
hard, on his foot. Drin glared at them darkly
and continued.

“The power that radiates from
the shrine has drawn hordes of the undead to it. The Shrine of the Dead must be
cleansed, though certainly not by you. This task falls to one of Almalexia’s
chosen.” The Archcanon turned away from them, toward one of the shelves at the
back of the room. Fen realized suddenly that there was a jittery-looking Dunmer
youth standing there, wringing his hands together. “Urvel,” Drin
said, and the Dunmer jumped and quickly crossed the room to stand by the
Archcanon’s side. Drin turned back to them.

“You will escort this young
priest, Urvel Dulni, to the shrine. Protect him well. His experience is
limited, but he is necessary to complete the ritual. The Shrine is protected by
the Profane, powerful liches who feed from the power of the shrine. You must
destroy them for Dulni to perform his duties.” He glared sharply at them. “I
stress again...protect Dulni at all costs. It is he who must perform the
ceremony. If he is not able, there are no others.” Beside him, Dulni was
positively shaking. Drin turned to the young
priest. “Do not just stand there quivering in your boots, you insipid fool,” he
said calmly, and Dulni started and scuffled over to Fen and Julan, mumbling
apologies. Fen and Drin exchanged one more
dark look towards one another, then she led Julan and Dulni from the room.

“What a s’wit,” Julan said
angrily as soon as they were out of earshot of the Ordinators. “You should have
just finished him off, Fen.”

“Somehow I don’t think that
fits the definition of ‘learning from the Temple,’”
Fen murmured as they stepped out into the bright daylight. She turned to Dulni.
“Can you lead us to this Shrine?”

“They’re mostly gone now,” Fen
told him quickly. “It’ll be fine.” She checked the clock in her locket. “It’s
nearly ten. We ought to get going.”

So with the shaking young
priest in their wake, Fen and Julan climbed back down into the tepid water of
the sewers and started to splash through the dark, odorous passages, not
finding much of the way in clues as to where the Shrine was until they reached
a large room that Fen guessed to be directly beneath the Temple. The sewer was guarded by a number of
bonewalker-like creatures, animated skeletons swathed in tattered brown robes
and hoods, drifting eerily from place to place without feet. As the three of
them entered, two turned their hollow, unseeing eyes upon the trio, and Dulni
let out a high-pitched shriek and ducked behind Julan.

The liches were not much a
problem, Fen discovered – it was more their chilling presence that created
issues, for every time they came across one Dulni would go into utter
hysterics.

“Listen,” Fen finally said as
a well-placed shot by Julan from the Bonebiter bow put an end to one of the
liches. “You need to relax. We’re here to protect you. Nothing’s going to
happen.”

“I – I know,” Dulni stammered.
“Lady Almalexia will protect me. She in Her wisdom that I am the one that must
cleanse the Shrine, and she will watch over me while I do so.”

“Then why are you screeching
like a cliff racer every time something moves?” Julan snapped from the other
side of the tunnel, where he was wrenching his arrow out of a fallen lich’s
skull. Dulni did not answer, but continued to hover anxiously behind them as
they pressed forward.

They continued through a
confusion of tunnels and ramshackle passages following the scent of rotting
flesh and the ever-increasing barrage of liches that attempted to impede them.

After what felt like hours,
they reached a low, rocky tunnel lit with smoking crimson lanterns from the
ceiling. Dulni’s face drained of colour as he stared up at the lanterns and
unease crept into his face.

“This – I think this is it,”
he whispered, looking down at the tunnel, which curved off to the left. He was
shaking more feverishly than ever.

“Stay behind us,” Fen advised,
and Dulni gladly complied as Fen and Julan led the way warily through the
tunnel. They came out into a tall cavern lit by fuming red lanterns and
dominated by a set of worn stone stairs that led up to a rocky platform. The
floor in front of the stairs was littered with liches, and they all turned
their strange, inhuman heads as Fen, Julan, and Dulni entered. Dulni let out a
weak moan and Fen and Julan turned to see him collapse and lay motionless on
the rocky floor.

“Gods,” Julan muttered, pulling
out his bow as they turned back to the advancing liches. They stood guard over
Dulni’s prostrate form, taking down liches as they came, smoothly reducing them
to piles of dust and tattered fabric. When the shrine was silent again, Julan
kicked Dulni sharply in the stomach and his eyes snapped open as he wheezed.

“Are you all right?” Fen asked
as Dulni shakily got to his feet, clearly winded.

“F – F – Fine…are all
those…things gone?”

“Yes, no thanks to you,” Julan
said snidely, going to the other side of the shrine to look around.

“Do you know what you need to
do?” Fen asked, and Dulni nodded, his jaw clenched.

“Our Lady will protect me,” he
said again, and he turned away from Fen and started up the stone stairs. Julan
came to stand by Fen and they watched him climb to the platform, where some
sort of an altar stood. For a long while, Dulni stood silently with his hands
flat on the altar, murmuring low, unintelligible verses. After some time, he
raised both his hands upward and a ball of bluish-white light appeared between
them, throwing everything below it into shadow. The light expanded, dripping
like honey over Dulni’s arms and radiating outwards, racing down the stairs and
coating the walls. It ran up Fen’s boots and up her robe, over her skin, making
her whole body glow. The entire chamber was coated in pure white light, so
bright that Fen had to squint. Then Dulni clapped once and the light went out
like a candle, leaving the cavern dark once more.

“That was amazing,” Fen said
truthfully as Dulni came back down the stairs. The red lanterns overhead had
changed to a pure blue, and the sickly scarlet glow of the cavern was now deep
and almost oceanic. Dulni said nothing, but stared silently at the cavern
floor. Fen could sense Julan yearning to quip something, so she directed the
three of them out of the shrine and up through the sewers until they found the Temple basement.

“Well, judging from your
stench, I would say your task was performed successfully,” Drin
said, wrinkling his nose in disgust as they trooped into his office, all of
them grimy and dribbling sewer water on the tiled floor. “Urvel,” he said
sharply, nodding his head to a shelf behind him, and the young priest started
and hurried to fetch the box. “Take this Blessed Spear as a gift from Our Lady
Almalexia,” he said as Dulni opened the ornate wooden box and held it out to
Fen. “To show her gratitude.”

Feeling as if Drin would
rather have them forcefully ejected from the Temple than reward her, Fen took
the spear, sliding it onto her back alongside her staff. Dulni snapped the box
shut and returned it to its shelf.

“Speak with Fedris Hler,” Drin said with a bored sigh, picking up his quill again
and writing without looking at them. “He usually has errands that must be
completed by the lowly. Don’t let him tell you he has nothing to be done. I’m
sure there’s something. Urvel, wash that stink off of yourself before you come
back in here. And be quick about it, I need you to catalogue my library again.”
Fen and Julan left the office, followed by Dulni, and he quickly caught them
before they parted ways.

“Thank you,” he told them, and
there was relief etched in every bit of his face. “For protecting me.”

“It wasn’t all that difficult,
to be honest,” Julan said, and Fen shot him a look.

“You were fantastic,” she told
him, and the priest beamed.

“Come visit me again sometime,
won’t you?” he said brightly. “Our Lady would approve, I’m sure.” With that, he
turned and disappeared down the hallway.

“He keeps talking about
Almalexia as if she’ll protect him,” Fen told Julan in a low voice as they
returned to the reception chamber. “You’d think she’d know better than to send
an inexperienced young priest to cleanse a shrine.”

“I don’t think any of the
Tribunal ever know what they’re doing,” Julan said hotly. “It’s just like them,
sending some completely random stranger to do their work. Almalxia’s ‘protecting
the weak,’ ha!” They stopped suddenly as they reached the reception chamber,
for Fedris Hler was standing near the entrance to Almalexia’s chapel, smiling
unnervingly and looking expectant. Julan shrank back, aware that his voice must
have carried down the hall. But Hler spoke as if he hadn’t heard a word.

“I spoke with the Lady earlier
today, and there may be something that one of your skill will be able to help
with. The Lady Almalexia would like you to retrieve a powerful artifact –
Barilzar’s Mazed Band.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“All I know is that the
goddess wants it returned,” Hler said flippantly. “You’ll find it in the ruins
beneath the Temple.
Search to the northwest in the sewers. There was a passageway in the Abandoned
Crypt that had been blocked off by a cave-in, but Almalexia had the area
cleared.” He grinned strangely again. “As for the item itself, I don’t really
see why you’d need to know any more about it. If you must inquire, Gavas Drin
will give you more details. I am terribly busy at the moment.” Fen closed her
eyes patiently.

“If you want this artifact at
all, serjo, I suggest you tell me what you know about it now,” she told him, narrowing her eyes. Like Julan, she was quickly
tiring of the Temple’s offhand way of treating its lessers. Fedris Hler’s odd
smile faltered.

“Very well,” he said, and for
once the grin vanished. “Barilzar himself was a powerful mage...quite powerful,
in fact. He created the band sometime in the middle of the Second Era, and soon
after disappeared. The purpose of the artifact is unknown to me. All I know is
that the Lady wants it. I can only assume it will allow her to better minister
to her people, though I find that hard to imagine.”

“Thank you,” Fen snapped, and
she turned sharply and exited the Temple,
Julan close behind.

“I’m getting sick of the Temple,” Julan said as
they emerged into the gathering evening. “More than I used to be.”

“Cheers to that,” Fen muttered
as they descended the stairs and made their way toward Godsreach. “I’m
exhausted, let’s hold off on this Mazed Band business until tomorrow.” Julan
agreed, and they had just reached the Winged Guar when Fen heard a familiar
voice calling her name.

“You go on in,” she told
Julan, and she turned to see Plitinius Mero, once again, crossing the square
towards her.

“Good day to you, Fenara!” he
said brightly. He paused and looked up at the darkening sky in mock surprise.
“Make that good eve! You’re looking a bit tatty. Been down in the sewers
again?”

“Unfortunately,” Fen replied
with a faint smile. She paused. “Plitinius, have you ever heard of Barilzar’s
Mazed Band?” Almost immediately, the Imperial’s face drained of colour. His
entire body stiffened, and his eyes grew wide with dread.

“Fenara!” he hissed, glancing
around, his face pale. “You should not even speak of such an object!” Fen
frowned. She had rarely seen Plitinius distressed before.

“Why?” He took her arm, pulled
her away from the inn where the dinner crowd was beginning to gather.

“I did not mean to snap at
you,” he whispered, though he still looked terrified. “I have heard many tales
about that ring and of the evil Barilzar who created it. It was meant to be a
means of teleportation for the wizard, but it was much, much worse than that.”
Plitinius shook his head. “That ring was said to open gates to hellish planes,
releasing creatures best left in nightmare. I’ve heard the ring was stripped of
its power, and only a god could use it now and not be destroyed.” He shook his
head again, and Fen saw his hands were shaking. “The thought chills my bones.”
Before Fen could speak, there was a loud shredding sound and suddenly there
were books scattering at her feet, glass breaking, potions spraying onto her
robes.

“Oh, Gods, I’m sorry,” she
said quickly, throwing off her ripped bag and kneeling down.

“That’s quite all right,”
Plitinius said distractedly as Fen gathered everything in her arms. Plitinius
glanced down and his face brightened suddenly. He knelt down and picked up a
book she’d missed, thick and leather-bound in red.

“Been reading this, have you?”
he asked brightly, and Fen glanced up at him, her arms full of books. He turned
the cover so she could see the title – The
Complete Real Barenziah.

“Oh – um – no, actually. A
friend gave that to me. I haven’t gotten a chance to start it.” She stood up,
her arms full of potion-splattered books. “It’s about my grandmother, isn’t it?
I can’t think of any other Barenziah.”

“Oh, yes, it’s about your
grandmother,” Plitinius said with a broad smile. “And do you know who wrote
it?”

“I did indeed!” he cried
brightly. “I felt it my duty to give to history a true and honest account of her.
The story I presented, while true, was perceived as scandalous. My exuberance
for the tale was left unchecked by wisdom, and I fear I caused some damage to
the woman, not to mention the Imperial family.”

“Why didn’t I ever know about
this?” Fen asked incredulously.

“Your father thought it would
be best if you were never told,” he said with a slight scoff. “As I’ve said,
the tale was a true one. However, the details within should probably not have
been divulged as they were. There were details that were felt to be
embarrassing to the Septim line, though it was not my intent for them to be so.
The work was ordered banned, and I was to be executed. Were it not for the
grace of the lady herself, I would long be in my grave.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know that Queen Barenziah
is many things, Fenara – but she is not shy, and she is not ashamed of how her
life was led. She knew my work to be true, and I believe she felt a sense of
amusement, if not satisfaction, at the tale’s telling. She protected me from
the Imperial family, and spread the word of my demise at her guards’ hands.
Since then, I have traveled with her under this name, acting as her scribe, her
advisor, and dare I say...her friend. I could ask for no greater honor.”

“That sounds like her,” Fen
said with a smile.

“But now it is your turn, Fenara! I would simply love to chronicle the extraordinary life
of Barenziah’s granddaughter as well. The Nerevarine!” he shook his head,
bemused. “I have already spoken to three other authors that aim to publish a
biography of you, and I fully intend to be the first!”

“Perhaps later, Plitinius,”
Fen told him as he handed The Complete
Real Barenziah back to her.

“Ah, yes, you still have many
adventures to come, I’d imagine,” he said understandingly. “Don’t want to write
it so soon that I don’t get all the details! I’ll let you be on your way,
then,” he added.

“Good-night, Plitinius,” Fen
said, hefting the books into her arms and going into the inn. It was crowded
and smoky, and there were more people in than usual. Fen glanced around,
puzzled, and squeezed through the mass to her room, where she dropped her books
and the few potions she’d salvaged on the bed and sat down at the table to
stitch her shredded bag back together.